


Unexpected

by vvltersens



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Compliant, M/M, brief mentions of anxiety issues, slightly intoxicated but consensual sex, when i say slightly i do honestly mean very slightly i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvltersens/pseuds/vvltersens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Connor really was not expecting anything like what he wound up getting from Cute Glasses Guy who he really was only sleeping with for a case, honest.</p><p>a.k.a. behind the scenes in episode 1 with Connor Walsh, includes thought-process and bonus graphic sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the best thing about Coliver is how much room there is for headcanons tbh. thus this begins my series of connor/coliver elaboration fics.
> 
> I took some of the lines from the initial pilot script that's now floating around because it was too good. (I am so sad they cut the 'I'm leaving' part but I couldn't find a place to put it in)
> 
> (also i know this is really long I really have no idea how it wound up that way. I chose to write it the way I would have written original work, instead of assuming that everyone has a lot of knowledge, which probably has a lot to do with it.)

Connor Walsh had his secret weaknesses when it came to guys, and they weren't the kind of thing most people expected from him. He hooked up with confident, typically good-looking guys with good bodies, running bar tabs and Humpr accounts. Guys who weren’t looking for anything real. Guys just like himself. They were his type, or so it appeared. But, when he got home from a one-night-stand and lay in his bed alone, satisfied and sleepy, he was perfectly willing to admit to himself that he intentionally went for people he knew he could never feel a damn thing for. For now, all he wanted was other men just like him, who he could never actually like any more than he liked himself, which wasn't much. He’d been completely scraped out empty by his high school years and even freshman year of college and he was not doing that again. There would never be another Aiden or even another Lucas or Cole because he would never let there be one.

Every person he’d ever had actual _feelings_ for (and by 'every' he means three, the aforementioned three) had been a sweet, nice guy, into commitment, (except when it came to committing to _him_ ). The small, repressed, affection-starved part of him, the secret part that hoped that one day, in the far, _far_ future, he could convince someone to love him and settle down with him, wanted someone more like that, not like him at all. So for now, he kept to his own kind and avoided nice boys like the plague.

The worst part was that even when it came to physicality, he had his secret little weaknesses. He _loved_ hot bodies, and abs, and biceps, and big dicks, and firm asses, he loved them and he always would. But the things he secretly obsessed over, the things he quietly noticed and enjoyed, were pretty faces, nice hair, and God help him, _smiles_. Not smirks, not like his own, _smiles._ He didn’t need any of that shitty complication in a one-night-stand, and he didn’t want it in them, either. He went for smirkers every time. But he knew himself well enough to admit that he truly went to jelly over a pretty smile, even if the smile in question sat on top of a fairly mediocre body.

  
***  
  
Having said that, the cute bespectacled guy who worked at the advertising agency in question certainly seemed to have a better-than-mediocre body. The way his suit was hugging his ass had Connor drooling internally. But from what he's seen so far, Connor knew the real worry would be the face. He was well-versed in resisting the pull of a great body. He didn’t get hypnotised by anyone’s ass, no matter how fantastic. But for what he was going to do, he’d have to resist the smile. This was dangerous, and probably a really stupid move. But he needed evidence, he wanted that internship and _he wanted that damn trophy,_ and this guy was his best shot at getting what he needed. Cute Glasses Guy, as Connor was temporarily calling him, was one of only two from the group from the advertising agency that was checking out the good-looking male bartender, and he was definitely the one that seemed more vulnerable. (He was also the prettier of the two but Connor _really_ wasn’t going to make this about how pretty his target was, that would end badly) This guy radiated shyness and general _niceness_ and the smile he'd given his co-workers was warm and wide, despite his obvious lack of interest in their conversation. Easy target. So he steeled himself up, mentally doing his best to prepare himself for the risks he’d be facing in the form of smiles from a nice guy, and approached the bar as he saw his target ordering a drink.  
  
He went to the bartender, pointing subtly at Cute Glasses Guy and informing the bartender he would be paying for his drink. The bartender winked at him and told him how much it was. Connor handed over notes from his wallet, telling him to keep the change, before going to stand just down from Cute Glasses Guy, within earshot but still far enough down to be seperate from his group. When the bartender delivered his drink, Connor heard him say that it had already been paid for by ‘that gentleman’, and took it as his cue to look over, smirk at the ready, and raise his own glass. Cute Glasses Guy offered him a smile, (that was even prettier than Connor had predicted, _goddammit_ ) raising his glass in return. Connor flicked his head, indicating for Cute Glasses Guy to close the small amount of distance between them. He obliged, and Connor's lips smirked a little harder before he actually consciously told them to do so. When Cute Glasses Guy was setting his drink down next to Connor’s, Connor began speaking.

“I got the strangest sense that your friends there were boring you a little. Could have been the way you were either staring off into space. Or, alternatively, at our friendly and very handsome bartender. I decided I’d offer to save you.” Cute Glasses Guy blushed a little, but still retaliated.

“My hero.” He began dryly. “But, uh, in fairness, you’d be bored if you had to hang out with that lot, too. Coworkers, not friends, and a pretty dull bunch of them, for that matter. I’m sure the bartender can forgive me for finding something to entertain myself with.” Connor was enjoying his voice. It was deeper, and more teasing, than he’d expected. He was overwhelmed by the sense of impending doom and ' _I didn't sign on for this'._ He'd anticipated the bashfulness but he hadn't anticipated the playfulness and light wit that came along with it.

“Connor.” he said by way of introduction. He probably should have given a fake name, but the idea of this guy not knowing his real name dissatisfied him in a way he didn't want to contemplate.

“Oliver.” Cute Glasses Guy responded, with a grin.

“Let’s move to that table there, _Oliver_ , put a little space between us and your very dull colleagues.” He suggested, picking up his drink and indicating a nearby table with his free hand.

“Sure.” Oliver smiled and picked up his drink as well, inclining his head to indicate for Connor to move. Connor moved towards the empty table, looking over his shoulder only briefly to check that Oliver was coming. The man was right behind him, making Connor smirk a little. He would have this one eating out of the palm of his hand. It seemed almost a shame, because on any other night Connor would have utterly taken him apart. (Although, to be fair, on any other night he would have made a point of not approaching Oliver in the first place because that smile of his was lethal.) He spun back around to face Oliver, tilting his head and taking a sip of his drink as he watched him fumble with his right sleeve. _Good_ . He was _definitely_ shy, as Connor had first assumed _._ While that was cute, Connor wasn’t here for cute, he was here for information, and ‘shy’ would almost definitely help him get it.

“Dare I ask why you’re out with such dull coworkers on a Wednesday, then?” he queried, watching as Oliver snapped out of his sleeve fiddling and put on that mask of confidence and humour that Connor was growing to like.

“ _Because_ it’s a Wednesday. I didn’t have a whole range of more impressive plans.” Oliver told him, making Connor’s lip quirk up unintentionally as he tried not to enjoy the contrast between _this_ and the blushes and fidgeting.

“Oh, so if it was a _Friday_ then…?” He challenged, his tone joking and his smirk widening.

“Oh yes, I’d be off doing something far more interesting, of course.” Oliver promised, his tone just as joking, nodding and smiling as he sipped his drink. _I’m not enjoying myself, I’m not enjoying myself, this is to get that internship and I am not enjoying myself._

“I overheard a riveting tale of someone named Patrick’s sexual exploits with some poor unsuspecting female client, I can’t imagine why you’re not having a good time.” He hadn’t yet devised his tactic on how to reasonably lead the conversation into ‘ _help me get something to sell out your boss’_ so he decided to go with it for the moment. It was sort of nice, talking to Oliver wasn’t awkward or stilted the way it could be with other potential hook-ups and guys in bars. _Not that he is a potential hookup_ , Connor told himself forcefully. Oliver rolled his eyes.

“Ah yes, Patrick and his motorboating stories, how I live for them.” He sipped at his drink, before frowning. “I’ve changed my mind about my positive opinion of the bartender, this is a shockingly weak drink.” Connor resisted the urge to frown himself, as getting Oliver tipsy had been part of his plan.

“That’s disappointing. If you drink it quick enough I’ll buy another round.” He goaded jokingly, taking another swallow from his own drink. His wasn’t exactly weak, but it sure wasn’t the strongest martini he’d ever paid for. That, however, might be a good thing. Considering his plan was half-formed at best, it might be a good idea to keep a clear head.

“You trying to get me drunk?” Oliver joked, but even as he did so, his face betrayed him because he looked so _bashful_ and God, it made Connor want to _devour_ him. This was not going to plan at all.

“Maybe a little, but I promise to keep up.” he lied. Oliver’s smile grew a little, and he looked away from Connor.

“If that’s the case, I’ve got a head start. I had to find some way to sit through the tales of Patrick’s exploits.” He was too cute; this was a bad choice. If Connor was a stronger man, he would abort mission right then and there. He wasn’t, however, and Oliver’s words sounded like a challenge, so Connor tossed back what remained of his martini, setting his glass down on the table, vowing to himself to try and get this back on the Sadowski case track.

“Another Maker’s Manhattan then?”

“With two cherries.” Oliver confirmed, before getting serious for a moment. “But I’m buying the next round, otherwise I refuse to drink it.”Dammit, Oliver _was_ sweet, just as Connor had feared. He played it cool on the outside, but on the inside he knew he was done for. Information or no information, he was going to sleep with this guy. Of course, if he didn’t get anything from Oliver, that would mean sacrificing his shot at getting information to get that internship, and sacrificing it for a hookup, of all things. So he’d have to try a little harder.

“Deal.” He replied, backing away from the table. “Don’t you go sneaking off on me.” He teased as he walked over to the unfortunately busy bar. God, why was the bartender already serving someone else, why was this so slow? He wanted to get back over there, get the work part of the evening out of the way and _get Oliver out of his clothes._

***

He eventually did manage to procure two Maker’s Manhattans, deciding it couldn't hurt to try Oliver's drink himself, and was on his way back over to him, when he noticed the other man’s co-workers. They looked fascinated, and in some cases, a little amused. Connor bit back a frown. His mild irritation only grew when he saw Oliver eyeing them suspiciously.

“Maker’s Manhattan, two cherries.” Oliver smiled at him, and Connor was now just really determined for so many reasons to wrap up the ‘getting evidence’ part of his evening so he could get out of here and to a bed and go down on Oliver for half an hour or so. “So you know… Your co-workers seem to want a show, so just say the word and we can start making out.”

“Ignore them. I- I just- I don’t talk to guys in bars that often.” Connor licked the inside of his teeth to stop himself from licking his lips because this guy was _insanely_ cute.

“So let me guess. You guys all work in the advertising agency upstairs.” He challenged, steering the conversation in the necessary direction.

“Is it that obvious?” Oliver asked with a laugh. _No, I actually snuck up, poked around and flirted information out of your receptionist, then kept an eye on the elevator._

“I work in the bank across the street, and the only hot guys that ever come in here are from your agency.” It was a feeble lie, and all he could do was pray that the compliment distracted Oliver from how weak it was. It worked. Oliver laughed shyly and Connor hastily had some of his drink to cover his own reaction to how cute it was. Since when did he even  _like '_ cute'?

“Hot?” Oliver sounded so genuinely surprised that Connor was actually kind of confused. He watched as Oliver got a little embarrassed, before changing the subject.

“Wow, uh… I don’t work in the cool part of the company if that’s what you’re thinking. I'm in I.T.” _This couldn’t possibly have worked out better_ _for me_ _._

“I.T.? No, I- I think I.T.’s very cool.” He told him, and it almost wasn’t a lie. Almost. “Can I ask you something?” Oliver’s tiny grin made him feel preemptively guilty. Oh well, he could make it up to him between the sheets later tonight. “Did you know that secretary who tried to kill her boss with an aspirin?” Oliver face collapsed like he knew _, knew_ , that Connor was just digging, and Connor’s stomach collapsed with it. Oliver looked at him like it suddenly made sense that Connor was talking to him at all, of course he wanted something. Connor felt _slimy_. And he knew it was only going to get worse from here.

“The legal department warned us not to talk about that.” He stumbled over the words a little, and sounded disappointed, and Connor wanted to throw it all in and forget about it and be genuine and kiss him so hard he’d feel it for weeks, right there in front of his stupid snickering co-workers. But he was so close to getting what he came for, he had to pull out his last few tricks. Kissing him could wait. (It would definitely happen, but it could wait.)

“Oh. Right. Sorry I asked.” He tried his best to look bored as he pulled out his phone, opening Humpr despite his lack of intention to use it. Opportunity struck once more when a bald, muscular man who fit more into Connor’s usual demographic eyed him up. He returned the gaze, despite the growing guilt in the pit of his stomach. Oliver looked around, taking in the man, and his still-amused coworkers, and he stuttered out,

“O-okay.” That made Connor’s gaze snap straight back to his face. “But you can’t tell anyone I told you this.” _Jackpot_.

“Oh, my lips are sealed.” He promised. He watched as Oliver’s face changed. It was the wall of confidence going back up, but this time it was harder somehow. Like there wasn’t any reason for him to feel bashful anymore because Connor didn’t actually want him. It wasn’t true, and Connor had every intention of informing him of that, as soon as he had what he needed. For now, he was trying to convince himself that business came before pleasure.. But he’d give Oliver more than one orgasm to make up for it later.

“I know all of them. I’ve seen their emails, and I know Gina Sadowski pretty well. What do you want to know?” Oliver’s voice sounded cold and resigned, and when he looked up at Connor, Connor’s guilt was made worse by the look in his eyes that said ‘I’m used to it’.

“I want to know about Bryant. Anything interesting in their emails about it?” He cut straight to the chase. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could get rid of that look in Oliver’s eyes.

“Nothing afterwards, obviously. No-one was using their company emails to talk about it. But beforehand, Kaufman and Bryant were arguing.” Connor raised his eyebrows, legitimately a little surprised at how well this was working out for him. It was like fate wanted him to get that trophy (and get laid.)

“Really? And what did they say?” He leaned forward a little, widening his eyes to indicate that Oliver should continue.

“Why don’t I just show you?” Oliver said with a roll of his eyes. Connor’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t even needed to _ask_. _He's like a gift from the collective gods of every religion that I don’t follo_ _w._

“You could do that?” he asked. Oliver smirked. Connor kind of liked the way it looked on his mouth.

“I’m in IT. I know how to use my own company’s technology.”

“Well that’s probably a good thing.” Connor responded with his own smirk. Oliver raised his glass to his mouth and gave Connor a challenging expression as he sipped.

“Yeah, it is. But, let _me_ guess… you don’t work at the bank across the street at all.” It was definitely a weak lie in the first place, Connor wasn’t all that sad to see it go.

“No?” He asked nonetheless, curious as to what exactly had given it away.

“Not a chance. As if you’d care that much if you were a banker, even with local gossip. You're not just _interested_ , you're looking for evidence. You know who would do that? A lawyer. I’d bet money that you’re with someone’s lawyer. Everything about you _screams_ law. What are you, an intern? An assistant? _Maybe_ an associate of some kind? You’re too young, and I know what both the lawyers look like.” Connor smiled at him, a little impressed. His logic was spot on.

“You’re clever.” He stated. Oliver snorted, smiling a little. Connor had missed that smile during its brief hiatus.

“Apparently not clever enough to say no to pretty guys.” He sighed. Connor resisted the urge to tell him he was currently struggling with the same thing, and instead went for simple but honest.

“We’re all guilty of that.” Oliver’s eyebrows shot up in blatant disbelief.

“Even you?” He said, his tone indicating that he did not believe that for a second.

“ _Especially_ me.” Connor told him, offering him a _slightly_ less predatory smile.

“I somehow doubt that, you’re the pretty guy that doesn’t get told ‘no’, not the one on the other side.” Oliver pondered aloud, looking him up and down.

“As with many aspects of my relationship with other men, I’ve gone both ways.” Oliver raised his eyebrows, blushing brightly as he caught on, which only made Connor smile wider.

“You also don’t think I.T. is cool.” Oliver challenged, almost like a retreat back to territory that didn’t make his cheeks burn red. It was kind of a shame. Connor liked the red.

“I totally do.” Connor assured, enjoying the way it made Oliver’s mouth quirk a little again, even if he was rolling his eyes.

“No, you think I.T. is very dorky, as does the rest of the world.” Oliver stated it like a fact, and maybe it kind of was, but it sure wasn’t a bad thing. For starters, it was going to get Connor exactly what he had come out in search of, but that wasn’t just it. Maybe he hadn’t been planning it, but he was utterly seduced by everything about Oliver, including the shyness and the slight dorkiness.

“Maybe, but dorks are actually my type.” He stated, and it wasn’t _exactly_ a lie. “Especially tonight.” Oliver looked away again, his mouth smiling shyly, and yes, _this_ dork, at least, was exactly Connor’s type, whatever his 'type' was.

“Well, I’ll need a computer.” Oliver pointed out, back in business mode to cover up his bashfulness. (And possibly to protect himself a little, seeing as he was incorrectly working under the assumption that Connor was only here for information, but Connor didn’t want to think about that.) He leaned over, and he stage-whispered flirtatiously,

“You could always take me home.”

“N-not yet.” Oliver stuttered. Connor tried not to feel disappointed. After all, ‘not yet’ was not ‘no’. “My co-workers, as you kindly pointed out, are paying attention. They know me. You’ll need to pretend to like me for another 20 minutes before leaving with you is believable.” He said by way of explanation. Connor raise his eyebrows a little, because if he was being honest, he couldn’t remember the last time it’d taken someone more than 20 minutes to get him to go home with them. In fairness, that probably said more about him than it did about the flirting skills of the people he slept with.

“Is that so?”

“Please, do I look like someone with enough game to go home with someone after less than an hour?” _You’ve sure got me ready to go_. He wanted to say. Other alternatives included _when you sass me like you’ve been doing, you make me think you could have pants dropping in under five minutes_. Instead, he went for the more socially acceptable option of,

“Depends on the lighting.” Connor felt himself smiling, actually _smiling_. Oliver’s face went a little steely again, and he looked into Connor’s eyes with an intense seriousness that Connor did not think boded well for him.

“Just so you’re aware, that is a big part of the reason I’m going along with this. I’m saving my own fragile reputation with them.” He jerked his head back at his co-workers, and Connor figured that yes, that made sense. After all, Oliver was obviously a smart guy. Would he really give up information just for a little more time in Connor’s presence, especially when he (wrongly) thought they weren’t even going to hook up? Now that he’d thought about it, the element of embarrassment to this whole thing was probably Connor’s friend in all this.

“I can work with that as long as the end result is us at your place.” He told Oliver, licking over and biting his bottom lip, unintentionally at first, but went along with once he realised he was doing it. Oliver looked away again, and he felt a little victorious. “You’ve got a drink to finish, anyway. Wouldn’t want to waste it.” He added in a lighter tone.

“Yeah, and you can scope out who you want to come back for once you’re done getting information out of me.” Oliver said, his tone sarcastic. Connor laughed in spite of himself.

“Oh, please. I have far more tact.” He joked in return. “I’d go to the bar next door.” Oliver chuckled, and Connor felt a little better about the whole situation when he saw the glint in Oliver’s eye.

“I’m sure. It’d be less likely to raise suspicions.” He nodded in mock understanding.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want your colleagues catching on to some of the naughty things I’m getting you to do.” Connor raised his eyebrows suggestively, and was almost offended when Oliver openly snorted.

“I don’t care about that so much as the fact that they really don’t need more material to humiliate me with. Wouldn’t look good for my sexual prowess if you were showing back up after an hour. If I’m getting you some kind of information for your mysterious legal business, you can help me convince good old Jason from accounting that I am in fact capable of one night stands.” Connor smiled a little over how cute Oliver was, covering it with his drink.

“Sounds like a cause I can get on board with.” He said, setting his drink back down.

“I’m glad.” Oliver told him, taking a drink as well. “Looks like this could be mutually beneficial after all.” Connor grinned, resisting the urge to point out exactly how beneficial he planned on making this for Oliver and looking over the man’s shoulder at his colleagues. One in particular kept giving them looks that were getting under Connor’s skin.

“Promise you’ll brag about it tomorrow to the one in the blazer.” he began, looking back to Oliver and nodding in the direction of his co workers. Oliver snickered. “He looks far too amused for my liking, but also a little jealous, so you should work with that. Make him suffer.”

“That would be Jason.” Oliver told him, looking even more amused.

“Of course he is.”

“He’s not so bad. He’s just a little too interested in my sex life for a respectful colleague.” Oliver looked away from Connor as he admitted that. Connor wondered just how often Oliver got flirted with. His general behaviour indicated ‘not often’ but the way Jason was looking at them made Connor wonder. Sid Oliver have to deal with unwanted flirting at work from this Jason?

“Speaking of work, are you going to get in trouble over this?” He asked quickly, before he forgot, as he continued to ponder Oliver’s work life. He was pretty sure he wasn’t suppose to care so much about a potential one-night-stand’s work life, but he didn’t want to get this guy into trouble over him. Oliver laughed derisively, rolling his eyes and informing him, in no uncertain terms,

“Oh please, you’re not _that_ pretty.” He finished off the last of his drink, looking at Connor in amusement. “I’m not risking anything for you, I know how to cover my tracks.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Connor said, surprised to discover that he did, in fact, mean it. Oliver looked at him, briefly, before looking back at his colleagues, who seemed to have finally found something more interesting to talk about.

“Look, they’re distracted, my drink is finished, let’s creep out while we can and go get a cab.” Connor smirked at him,

“My car’s just outside.” He offered. Oliver reached for one of the cherries from his drink, popping it into his mouth in a way that surely wasn’t intentionally seductive. Surely. But it had heat pooling in Connor’s stomach and his cheeks, and when Oliver offered him a little, slightly self-conscious smirk of his own, Connor wondered if he’d been wrong. Maybe Oliver knew exactly what he was doing to him.

“Alright then.” Oliver told him. “Let's go.” Connor grabbed Oliver by the hand and pulled him towards the door.

***

  
The walk to Connor’s car in the outside carpark felt a lot longer than it actually was, because Connor was burning from the mere hand-to-hand contact and he just wanted to get the email drama over and done with and get more direct skin-to-skin contact. Oliver stumbled a little, possibly because Connor was pulling him, possibly because he was definitely a little tipsy, and it shouldn’t have been cute. But it was. When he unlocked the car and opened Oliver’s door for him, he wondered who the hell this hand-holding, door-opening person was, because it was not him. He blamed Oliver’s smile and sarcasm.

When he turned on the car, Connor was suddenly feeling very self-conscious about the fact that Taylor Swift’s _1989_ was in his CD player.

“Well that is unexpected.” Oliver said with a giggle, sounding more tipsy than he had when he’d been mouthing off in the bar.

“You’re unexpected.” Connor told him without thinking, biting his lip at his own stupidity when he realised what he had said.

“That was a weak comeback.” Oliver told him, still giggling.

“It was. but it’s also true.” He looked over, and saw Oliver smiling into his lap. He couldn’t help but smile at the road in return.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I broke this up into chapters for easy reading and no other reason, they continue on from each other completely.
> 
> Also, I don't know about you guys, but I always figured that Oliver's shyness in the first episode couldn't have been the way the whole interaction went down, compared to how little shit he's willing to take from Connor in the very next episode. I headcanon him as having plenty of biting jokes and reasoning that we just didn't fully see. my poor little shy sass prince <3


	2. Chapter 2

In the elevator up to Oliver’s apartment, Connor resisted the urge to act on the elevator fantasies he was quietly entertaining. _Business before pleasure, Walsh_ , he reminded himself on repeat. Oliver was making a point to not look at him, and was leaning on the wall of the elevator. The elevator stopped, and the door opened. Oliver looked back at him, a questioning look in his eyes, as though he expected Connor to change his mind or something.

“Lead the way.” Connor prompted. Oliver stepped out of the elevator, followed by Connor, but still looked hesitant as he turned left and began walking past identical doors.

“My apartment isn’t anything impressive or anything. I don’t know how to decorate so it’s a bit… mismatched. You can’t judge me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Connor promised as they came to a stop in front of a door numbered 303. Oliver’s hands were shaking a little as he brought his key up to the lock, because of nerves, alcohol or both, Connor couldn't tell,and he missed once before slotting the key in.  
  
The first thing Oliver did was take off his shoes and flit around the apartment, turning on all the lamps. Oliver’s apartment was quite nice. His fridge was small, and it was all fairly open-plan, but it was nicely furnished, for all Oliver’s worries, except the gaudy patterned throw cushions that Connor was not exactly a fan of. The whole thing reminded him of his sister's flat from when she had just graduated college, and he'd just started, and he slept on her couch for few weeks because he hadn't been coping well enough to live in the dorms. It had a weird affect on him, comfort, but also revulsion at the memory of past weaknesses. Connor didn’t have much more time to make judgements, because Oliver was talking him as he turned on lights.

“It’ll take a little while to get into the emails, do you want something to drink?” Connor followed suit and removed his shoes as he looked around to find Oliver standing by a desk, turning on a laptop.

“Sure. Are you drinking as well?” He queried, unsure of what answer he would prefer.

“Not a good idea. I need to be able to type straight don’t I?” He moved back towards the kitchen as the computer started. When he bent over to investigate his liquor cabinet, Connor couldn't help but stare pointedly at his ass. When Connor heard him start speaking, he had to look away to make sure he'd actually focus on what was being said to him

“Would you prefer gin, cherry liqueur, red wine, sambuca, rum or whiskey?” he asked as he looked through the cupboard. Connor's eyebrows raised in regard to the odd variety in the choices.

“You’re a strange guy, Oliver.” he remarked.

“I am aware.” Oliver told him, grinning a little.

“I’ll take the gin.” Oliver got back up, to Connor's chagrin, and handed him the bottle. Connor watched him opening up another cupboard to hand him a glass before approaching his computer again.

“I can’t guarantee that there’s anything to mix it with in the fridge, but feel free to check.” he pointed to the fridge to Connor's left. For unknown reasons, this was the exact moment when it hit Connor, when he realised he's out of his depth with this guy. This was a really lovely guy who is giving him alcohol and free access to his fridge whilst hacking into his own company's emails for him. This guy who is actually talking to him and joking with him, which probably shouldn't be abnormal or pleasant, but he couldn't remember the last time a guy he was going for actually bothered with it, what was the point in the pretence? They tended to just flirt for a little at a bar, if he was lucky, and get straight to it as soon as possible. But Oliver wasn't like that. Oliver was great and Connor was practically using him. It almost hurt.

“Excellent, you have orange juice.” He said simply, pouring himself the drink he knows he needs to dull that edge of guilt that's reappearing as he ponders Oliver's general nature.

“Oh good, glad you’ll be comfortable drinking my alcohol as I illegally hack into my company’s email servers for you.” he joked with a grin, making Connor feel all the slimier, despite his amused tone.

“You’re a wonderful host, Oliver.” He joked in return to keep his cool, going to lean against the couch and watch as Oliver began to type into his weird little hacking program. It looked exactly like what you expect a hacking program to look like, except Oliver only had it taking up part of the screen. Connor could half-see a wallpaper, the lower torso of two people in snowy weather. The one of the left was definitely a woman, and the one on the right looked like it might be Oliver. He couldn't see anything else. He turned his attention to the concentration on Oliver's face. His bottom lip was between his teeth, and his fingers were racing, and he looked so _hot._ The fact that this was illegal probably shouldn't be working for Connor, all things including his future profession considered, but it was. Seemingly sweet and nerdy Oliver doing illegal things, and _for Connor's benefit,_ it was certainly doing something for him. He tossed back the drink, looking back at Oliver, who took that moment to speak up.

“You can... watch Netflix or something. If you want…” He offered meekly, clearly a little nervous under Connor's gaze.

“I don’t know, I’m enjoying this view more than enough.” Connor teased, moving to lean against the back of Oliver's chair.

“Right.” He said, and Connor saw his cheeks go a little red.

“What can I say, watching you misbehave is kind of hot.” He said quietly, his lips getting a little closer to Oliver's ear. Oliver laughed, not looking embarrassed anymore, just amused and doubting.

“Sure it is.” He said with a snort, a new window opening unexplained on the computer. Oliver's fingers kept moving. Connor wasn't even managing to distract him _slightly_. It was a little disheartening. Maybe he had to flirt harder.

“I told you, I’m totally weak at the knees for dorky types. Talent is sexy, Oliver. It’s even sexier when you’re doing something _bad_.” Oliver smirked at that, looking sideways at Connor for the first time since he'd started tapping away.

“Well, thank you, I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” He said coolly, looking pleased with himself and a little amused, still. “Can you… look at me slightly less? Or something? It’s distracting.” Oliver's voice was now the same shy one he'd used eaarlier in the bar when Connor had accused him of being hot. He blamed the alcohol for the swoop in his stomach.

“If I really have to.” He said, knowing it came out almost as a question.

“Y-yes. You do.” Oliver said, the same tone again. Connor turned to sit down on the couch. He was trying desperately to play it cool and be his usual casually flirty self, who spit out articulate compliments at the guys he went for regardless of whether or not they were true, because that's what he did and that's how he was and that was easier. But he was hooked, Oliver was this ridiculous combination of clashing traits and he wasn't having any of Connor's act and Connor wanted all of it, at least for tonight. There was nothing casual or insincere about that.

“So are you a top, or a bottom?” he asked, flinging the last of his subtlety to the wind.

“I’m whatever I’m in the mood for at the time.” Oliver informs him plainly, looking at his screen and not even glancing at Connor. _A man after my own heart._

“And what are you in the mood for tonight?"

“You to shut up for two minutes so I can get your evidence for you.” Oliver told him with a laugh, still not looking at him.

“Oh, ouch.” Connor held his heart mockingly, watching as Oliver glanced back at him ( _finally_ ) and laughed again.

“Don’t even try that with me, you’re flirting this information out of me anyway. I can be as mean as I want.” Oliver's tone was light, thankfully, so Connor didn't take it too seriously. That was definitely a good thing, as he didn't want to feel any worse about it, and if Oliver was joking, he couldn't be _too_ hurt, and maybe he'd caught on to Connor's _other_ intentions.

“Is that so?” He challenged, smirking, just in case Oliver looked over. He didn't.

“Mmhmm. Considering you approached me under false pretences, I feel like my pride needs me to insult you to recover.” His tone was still light, and teasing, but Connor decided that he really needed clear up his intentions if he did want to sleep with Oliver.

“They weren’t false.” He offered, watching from his odd angle. He could just see enough of Oliver's face to see him raising his eyebrows and rolling his eyes.

“Sure they weren’t. I totally believe you.” Oliver actually looked over at him properly to smirk this time, so Connor figured they were okay. That was more relieving than it really should be, considering Oliver was really supposed to be just information and sex, and not an array of guilt and fondness as he was turning out to be.

“Yet we’re here, and you said yes.” He offered. Oliver shrugged.

“It’s been a solid year since I broke any rules. Your false pretences are a decent excuse.” His smile was breaking through and Connor wanted to kiss his stupid smiling lips.

“Oh, come on now, Oliv-” When Oliver interrupted, he was smiling even wider, so Connor didn't feel stung by it.

“Shut up so I can concentrate on getting your evidence, would you?” Connor rolled his eyes before standing and returning to the kitchen counter.

“Alright. I’ll just drink all your gin.”

“Go right ahead.” Oliver told him. He poured himself another drink, before settling in on the edge of the couch again to watch Oliver again, subtlely as he could so as not to prompt more of Oliver's bashful 'don't look at me' requests. Connor drank slowly in silence as Oliver hit more buttons and typed more lines of code. This continued for a few minutes of silence before Oliver spoke up again,

“Okay, here you go. You’re trying to discredit Bryant, right?” Connor got off the couch and moved back to stand behind Oliver.

“Yep.”

“How’s this?” Oliver pointed to the email that had popped up in a normal-looking window. Connor read it, seeing it talk about Bryant wanting Kaufman to step down.

“Perfect.” He said with a wide smile. _Trophy's in the bag._

“Alright, what’s your email address?” Connor frowned as Oliver hit the 'forward' button. Oliver looked at him, and apparently misinterpretted his frown. “I’m not going to stalk you after tonight, I just need to send this to you.” Oliver's tone was almost a little hurt again, and Connor found himself wishing he knew how to fix the lingering lack of certainty Oliver had about his interest.

“No, I know, it’s fine! I’m just thinking, that won’t show up or anything will it?” He queried, as this was his genuine concern.

“No, Connor, I know what I am doing, I promise.” Oliver rolled his eyes at him, still sounding annoyed.

“Alright, alright.” Connor leant over him, a little closer than necessary, and typed in his email address. He watched as Oliver hit 'send' and began exiting programs. Connor's phone buzzed as he received the email.

“There you go. You have your information then.” Oliver said, tone unreadable, standing up to stretch out his back.

“Hey Oliver?” Connor asked, irritated with himself for how meek it came out. Oliver looked back at him.

“Mmm?” Connor used the other man’s moment of confusion to grab his face and hurriedly lean in to kiss him. At first it was messy because Connor had to go for the element of surprise, but then Oliver was relaxing under his touch, and Connor let his hands slide to the other man’s neck, tilting his head for better access, and kissing with all the tension he’d been letting build up since he noticed how excellent Oliver’s ass was. Oliver's lips were even softer than they looked, and his kiss lacked the hesitation that the rest of his behaviour had held. His glasses got in the way, bumping Connor's nose and his closed eyes, but he barely cared. Just as Connor was starting to get really into it, Oliver pulled away sharply, to Connor’s surprise and disappointment.

“What are you doing?” Oliver asked, his smile wide and surprised and so completely contagious that Connor felt himself smiling too.

“Kissing you, I thought it was obvious.” He told Oliver, raising his eyebrows, before swooping in and taking his glasses off for him. Oliver grabbed them and set them down on his kitchen counter. Connor smiled at the action that held the same odd cuteness as the rest of Oliver before leaning in again and kissing him. This time, Oliver gave in right away, moving his hands to Connor’s waist, which made Connor kiss him harder. Oliver's mouth was soft but insistent, and his hands were gripping Connor's waist with the exact right amount of pressure and it's so _hot._ Connor rolled his hips forward, grinding against Oliver roughly, pulling back from the kiss to sigh at the jolt of pleasure it gave him. He kissed Oliver over and over, brief but desperate every time, as he moved his hands to undo the tie around the other man’s neck. He was so desperate to get rid of their clothes and _feel_ Oliver against him properly that his hands weren't co-operating. Oliver snickered, their lips still against each other, as Connor continued to fail to get rid of the tie.

“Need some help there?” Oliver teased, still barely moving his mouth away from Connor's. He moved his own hands from Connor’s hips to undo his tie, not protesting when Connor took the opportunity to use his now-free hands to toss away his own blazer, getting to work at Oliver's as well as soon as the other man had tossed his tie aside. Despite the difficulties of getting undressed while kissing, he found himself not wanting to move his mouth at all. He'd been dying to do it all night, it felt so _good_ and Oliver kissed so well. So he just kissed Oliver harder as he undid the buttons on his own shirt. Once his shirt has been tossed to the side, probably not far from their coats and Oliver's tie, he pulled his lips away, ducking to kiss at Oliver's stomach as he yanked off the other man's belt. He wanted to put his mouth everywhere, absolutely everywhere. Ideas for what exactly he would do to Oliver started to form as he undid the buttons at the bottom of Oliver's shirt. He heard Oliver sigh as he moved to pull open his pants, kissing along his little happy trail. He was so pretty and his heavy breathing right now was delicious. Connor shoved Oliver's pants downwards, pulling them off Oliver's legs, the other man complying completely. Connor swooped back up, kissing the tip of Oliver's half-hard penis with an open mouth through his underwear. That got a gasp, so he did it again, and again, and again. He heard Oliver start to talk as he finally moved back upwards.

“I thou- I thought all you wanted from me were those emails.” he grabbed Oliver's face, kissing frantically with want over his cheek and back to his lips. He kised him hard, fast, passionately, pulling his shirt apart, hearing the buttons pop open, not caring if he'd popped some of them off. What did buttons matter, he needed this glorious man naked, _now_. He tossed the shirt away, grabbing Oliver's sides and shoving him down onto his bed. He moved to straddle Oliver, catching a surprised, breathless, _beautiful_ look on it.

“I did. But I want this, too.” God, he wanted it more than he'd wanted the damn emails by the time they were onto their second drinks. He rolled his hips down to Oliver's, already loving the way his body felt against the older man's. “Turn over.” he told him, having finally made his executive decision. Oliver enthusiastically obeyed, his hands bunching up in the pillow. Connor pressed hot, hasty kisses down Oliver's spine, using his hands to shove away Oliver's undrewear, before licking right over his hole, making Oliver let out a delicious noise and buck upwards. Teasingling, Connor worked his tongue through the cleft of Oliver's ass, circling his hole but not breaching it.

“Fuck, Connor.” Oliver groaned quietly, pressing his face into his pillow. Curse worse sounded like pure sex on Oliver's tongue.

“Swear again.” Connor demanded, licking all the way from his perineum up to the dimples on his spine.

“Fuck.” Oliver breathed obediently.

“I'm going to take you _apart_.” Connor breathed into those dimples, moving back down to continue to lick at Oliver's rim.

“Jesus _Christ_.” Oliver said, rolling his hips forward into the mattress. He was so _responsive_ , God it was hot. Connor reached over to flick the bedside lamp on at that. He needed to see Oliver's responses. When Oliver did nothing to stop him, he assumed it would be fine. Once the lamp was on, he finally slid his tongue inside him, just slightly, feeling his dick twitch at the muffled groan that came from the pillows. He pulled his tongue away again, teasing his rim again in slow, painful circles. When he heard Oliver gasp again, he dipped his tongue back in without warning, making Oliver buck forward. He placed a wet kiss to Oliver's hole, hearing him gasp, before slipping his tongue just barely back in. He repeated this, over and over and over, flicking his tongue just inside and just outside, flicking his tongue against Oliver's rim, and using his saliva-coated thumb to rub over Oliver's perineum in time with his tongue's work. Oliver's heavy breathing, his little gasps and quiet moans that the man was trying to suppress were the biggest turn-on for Connor, he was getting so incredibly hard just at the sounds Oliver was making. He'd always gotten off on giving pleasure, but this was a little different. Oliver was different, somehow. Probably because he was so shy with his clothes on, and was now gasping and rutting downwards shamelessly under Connor's tongue. It was ridiculous, and it was driving him crazy. He repeated the actions that got the tiny moans over and over, flicking his tongue and hearing Oliver's breathing get heavier with each stroke, until Oliver pushed himself up to balance on his arms.

“I swear to God, Connor, you stop teasing me right now or I'm kicking you out of this apartment.” Connor snickered, but Oliver's voice was so deep and breathy and desperate that Connor was more than willing to oblige. He placed a hand on Oliver's back, pushing him back down, before moving his mouth back to Oliver's hole, sliding his tongue all the way in, as far as he could press, his nose pressed right between Oliver's cheeks. Oliver rutted down against the sheets, gasping. Connor's tongue swirled all the way around, and pressed in again, flicking, searching, hoping his tongue was just long enough to graze a little of Oliver's prostate. He flicked his tongue in that manner twice more, before moving his tongue around in a circle once more, licking out everywhere inside Oliver, before resuming his straight, searching flicks. After four flicks when Connor was licking as deep as possible, Oliver bucked downwards again, groaning a little louder than previously, and Connor figured that might mean victory.

“Fuck, Connor, fuck.” Connor pulled back out, licking all the way from the back of Oliver's balls, again, up to his dimples, teasing him again, making Oliver whine. “No, fuck, no teasing, I can't handle it.”

“I think you can.” Connor teased, pressing open-mouthed kissed through Oliver's ass. He moved back up to kiss just above Oliver's right cheek, sucking down a little. “I think you can take whatever I try, and I think you can take it pretty damn well.”

“Don't test me, I'll pay you right back.” Oliver threatened breathily. Connor felt the words right in his cock.

“Jesus, Oliver.” Connor breathed, moving back to kiss against Oliver's rim.

“Stop teasing. I told you.” Oliver pushed, shoving his ass back onto Connor's face.Connor moaned himself, before pushing his tongue back inside, licking and sucking and aiming for the tiny edge of Oliver's prostate that his tongue was just long enough to hit. “Fuck, Connor, fuck, right there.” Oliver breathed. His responsiveness was getting to Connor so badly. He wanted to try and stretch this out, but he really was getting achingly hard because of Oliver's gorgeous responses. He needed to finish him, soon, to continue on with the rest of his master plan for utterly destroying the gorgeous man beneath him. He licked at that part of Oliver again, pulling back to suck at his rim again, before licking at his prostate, moving his thumb back to Oliver's perineum.

“Oh, fuck, Connor, I'm getting close.” Oliver whispered, bucking down into the mattress to give his cock some friction. Connor kept fucking into Oliver with his tongue and Oliver kept grinding into the mattress for a little longer, until Oliver was moaning Connor's name quietly and tensing. Connor felt him clench around his tongue, knowing he was coming, and he kept licking at his prostate to help him ride it out. He didn't stop until Oliver shoved him off, gently but desperatly. Connor sat up and reached into Oliver's top draw, assuming and hoping he could find lube and a condom there. Oliver was regaining control of his breathing underneath him as he grabbed hold of the lube and condoms he'd been searching for. God, he was so desperate for it, for _Oliver_ , right now. He was about to start slicking up his fingers to make sure Oliver was fully prepped, when he was taken by surprise and flipped down onto his back, Oliver pinning him there.

“Slow down there, pretty boy. You’re not the only one who knows what you’re doing with your tongue.” He said quietly, teasingly, his face glowing red from Connor's earlier work, but a glorious smile lighting it up.

“Is that so?” Connor challenged, pleased and certain that it definitely was.

“Yeah, it is. I warned you not to tease me.” Oliver told him with a giant, gorgeous smirk, before he began kissing his way down to the edge of Connor's pants. Even the featherlight touches had Connor's breathing getting even heavier. He undid the pants hurriedly, pulling them off just as quickly, taking his underwear with him. Connor watched in mild amusement as Oliver threw away the pants aggressively, but his amusement faded into arousal as Oliver kissed the head, open-mouthed, giggling as he did. “God, you're so ready for it, aren't you?”

“Yes.” Connor said, surprised and a little ashamed of how breathless he sounded. Oliver flicked his tongue lightly through his slit, making Connor noticed just how coated in precum his dick was, and it took all of his effort not to buck upwards.

“Oh, I know, I can taste it.” Oliver told him, licking along the side of Connor's cock, from tip to base and back again, but not giving him any real relief.

“Fuck, Oliver, get to it, will you?” He asked, still fighting to keep his hips still.

“You wouldn't.” Oliver told him, moving his hands to his hips. Connor was almost grateful to have someone holding them down so he didn't have to try to. He started to lick up and back down the sides of Connor's dick again, sometimes giving a quick swipe to Connor's perineum. Connor's hands scrambled to grab hold of the pillow.

“You don't play fair.” He groaned as Oliver licked his tip teasingly again.

“I'm playing _very_ fair, if we use your earlier rules.” Oliver challenged before licking stripes up and down his cock again, making Connor groan desperately over and over again and squeeze the pillow. “You gonna beg?” Oliver challenged, the look on his face indicating that he _knew_ Connor wasn't going to beg, that Connor _didn't_ beg.

“No.” He answered, aiming for defiant, an effect that was ruined by how breathless he was. God, he was so hard it _hurt_ and he wanted Oliver to do something, _anything,_ to make it better. But he _did not_ beg, ever.

“I'm sure I could make you.” Oliver challenged, raising his eyebrows and smirking, before taking Connor's tip in his mouth again, sucking a little, but not taking it in any further.

“I don't beg.” Connor groaned. Oliver pulled off to laugh, before going back down and licking through his slit, licking around his head, licking carefully up and down, driving Connor crazy and providing real no relief. Briefly, he put his mouth all the way around Connor's tip again, sucking down quickly, making Connor moan, before pulling away again, and resuming his maddening licking.

“Fuck you, Oliver.” Connor breathed with a small laugh, watching as Oliver smirked around his dick and _fuck_ that was hot. Connor needed relief, so badly. Oliver was such a damn teases and Connor was absolutely loving it.

“We're never going to get to that if you don't use the magic word.” Oliver told him, pressing his lips against the side of Connor's dick as he said the words, making Connor literally _feel_ them.

“No.” he tried, but he could barely make any noise.

“Come on, Connor, it's just one little word.” Oliver teased, punctuating the sentence with another lick through Connor's dick. He couldn't take it anymore. He was going to cave, fuck.

“Please, Oliver. Please.” He groaned, rolling his hip upwards, searching for anything, any kind of relief.

“That's better.” With that, he took Connor almost all the way in. Connor felt his tip hitting the back of Oliver's throat, but the older man barely flinched, and merely slid backwards again, sucking as he went and ripping a loud groan from Connor's throat. Oliver repeated this, over and over, sucking at all the right places, licking through his tip each time he bobbed back up, swirling his tongue around on the way back up each time. Connor was getting pretty close when Oliver brought his right hand up to pump the base of his cock while his mouth continued to work the majority of it.

“Fuck, Oliver, I'm close.” Connor groaned as Oliver let him buck upwards. Oliver's movements sped up, and Connor was panting and moaning loudly. The noises he was making were obscene and embarrassing and he didn't makes these noises, ever. He was close, he was so close, he needed Oliver to move so he didn't come in his mouth. “Oliver, please, I'm gonna come, you've got to move.” Oliver moved his mouth, but kept his hand movements consistent, and Connor was spilling over his own chest and all over Oliver's fist, moaning out Oliver's name, loudly. Oliver moved back, sitting up on Connor's knees.

“Shit.” Connor breathed. Oliver laughed, looking a little more like the shy, blushy guy from the bar.

“I told you so. You shouldn’t doubt me.” He told him with a timid giggle.

“I’ll try not to.” Connor vowed as he finally got his breathing under control.

“I should think so.” Oliver teased with another, more assured laugh. It made Connor smile, and he never smiled like this, when he wasin bed with people.

“Come here.” Connor demanded, his smile just getting wider as Oliver obeyed, leaning back down and kissing Connor. At first it was slow, gentle. Oliver's hips rolled slowly but heavily against his, making him moan into Oliver's mouth. Oliver'd had a little time to recharge as he was sucking off Connor, and he was half-hard again, and that was motivation enough for Connor. He was getting his energy back, getting more into it again, pulling Oliver against him by the neck, pressing up against him. Oliver was grinding down into him with more speed and force now and he could feel himself getting hard again. He grabbed at Oliver's hips, pulling him down into him _hard_ , rolling his own hips up to meet Oliver's, making the older man gasp. He leant back up to kiss Oliver again, and when he felt Oliver's hand palming at his cock, he groaned into the kiss. Oliver bit his lip lightly, making him groan faster and grind up into Oliver's hand. Oliver pulled away from the kiss then, looking down at Connor with a self-satisfied, albeit breathless, smirk.

“Now you can fuck me, if you’re still up to it.” He challenged, raising his eyebrows. Connor's facial expression must have been amusing, because Oliver broke into giggles for the brief moment that Connor lost his faculties over the statement. Once he'd recovered from the heated shock, and his embarrassment over it, for that matter, he pushed himself upwards, moving to kneel and pushing Oliver gently upwards with him. He pecked his lips before moving to his ear, kissing behind it and whispering,

“Turn around, hot stuff, I'm more than up to it.” Oliver did as he was told, turning on his knees. Connor moved in behind him, pushing his legs apart and slotting himself between them, before grabbing Oliver's hands and bracing them against the wall. The pillows on Oliver's bed were still in the road, making the whole position less than ideal, so Connor grabbed them and threw them onto the ground, making Oliver laugh in surprise.

“What have my pillows ever done to offend you so much?” He asked, despite shuffling his knees forward a little and clearly understanding why they'd been moved. “There was no need for the agression.

“I'm feeling impatient.” he told Oliver as he tossed away the last pillow. He grabbed the lube and condoms from the side of the bed where he had previously dropped them and began slicking up his fingers. Knowing Oliver would probably be pretty loose from his earlier efforts, he slid two fingers into him unceremoniously, causing Oliver to press towards the wall and moan. Connor moved his lips to Oliver's neck, placing open-mouthed kisses over it as he slid his fingers slowly in and out of Oliver.

“Oh, come on, I can handle more than that.” Oliver told him, moving a hand back and running it into Connor's hair. He pulled at it a little, making Connor's hips stutter forward unintentionally, pulling a heated pant out of him. “Did I find a weak point there?”

“Shut up.” Connor said with a breathy laugh, sliding a third finger in as Oliver continued to pull at his hair. He leant his head into the touch a little, making Oliver laugh at him again, although to be fair, his laugh sounded nearly as wrecked as Connor felt.

“Alright, alright, I'm ready. Hurry it up.” Oliver told him, pushing back onto his fingers. Connor bit back another obscene noise and instead told him, with a smile that, unlike his moan, he couldn't manage bite back,

“You're impatient is what you are. Maybe I _should_ make you wait.” Oliver yanked at his hair again, making him groan again. Connor couldn't remember the last time he'd been this _vocal_ with someone.

“Teasing worked so well for you last time, didn't it?” Oliver told him, pushing himself backwards so his back was flush against Connor's front.

“I was pretty pleased with the results.” Connor told him, pulling his fingers out and moving to bite at Oliver's shoulder. Oliver moaned impatiently. Much to Connor's disappointment, his hand pulled away from Connor's head.

“Connor would you just fuck me, please.” He demanded, snatching the condom from next to his left knee where Connor has sat it and ripping it open. He turned his torso, a little awkwardly, and moved to slide the condom onto Connor's cock. Normally, Connor would have insisted on doing it himself, because it felt like a weird power thing most of the time. But it didn't right now. Right now it just felt like Oliver's long, pretty fingers touching him. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy it.

“Fuck.” he breathed as he felt Oliver roll it all the way on. He opened his eyes again to see Oliver, still twisted around, reaching for the lube. It was seconds later and his slicked-up hand was on Connor's dick again, and his lips were rushing forward to capture Connor's. The angle was ridiculous but he didn't care, and apparently neither did Oliver. When Oliver pulled away, he braced his hands against the wall above the bedframe again, and Connor figured he was about to be in a lot of trouble if he didn't get inside Oliver right now. He was desperate to at this point anyway, so he took hold of Oliver's hips and lined himself up and began slowly pressing in. Oliver, however, was having none of that, pushing back roughly so that Connor was fully sheathed before he even really knew what was happening.

“Jesus Oliver!” he groaned, holding the man's hips so tight they would probably bruise.

“I don't trust you, you're a fucking tease.” Oliver told him, pulling forward again. Connor was only just able to stop himself from pausing out of shock, again, and held Oliver's hips tighter so he couldn't move. He heard a smug little chuckle, and that galvanised him into action once and for all. He pulled all the way back, nearly pulling out, before slamming back in as hard as he could, feeling satisfied when he heard Oliver let out a low moan. Considering how mouthy he was, all of Oliver's noises were fairly quiet. Normally Connor was a little more like that as well, but Oliver was making him embarassingly loud. It was almost like payback when he repeated his movements, getting another cut-off moan out of Oliver each time. Before long, Oliver was shoving a hand back into his hair and Connor was forced to slow down his pace because Oliver was pulling at his hair again and it was so goddamn distracting. He kissed Oliver's neck, the position allowing him to lean his head into Oliver's hand better, and slowed down, rocking into him slowly, though still not exactly gentle, in time with his kisses. He slid his left hand from Oliver's hip to hold him around the stomach, pulling him close as he fucked into him. He was caught completely off-guard when he felt Oliver clench around him intentionally. He was completely powerless to hold back te ridiculous, loud, embarrassing moan he let out. Oliver snickered again and repeated the action. If it didn't feel so fucking good Connor would be almost irritated by how often Oliver seemed to be laughing at him. Instead, he moved his right hand to turn Oliver's head towards him, kissing his stupid laughing mouth, sliding his tongue over Oliver's lips and slipping it in to slide along his tongue as well. It successfully shut him up, but he was still playing dirty with his clenching and hair-pulling. It wasn't helping that he was an excellent kisser as well. Connor was getting this sneaking suspicion that he wasn't going to last as long as he usually prided himself on. He pulled back from the kiss, gasping, pleased to find Oliver in a similar state. Connor rocked into him a little harder again, causing Oliver to need to pull his other hand out of Connor's hair and put it back onto the wall for balance. Connor moved his own hands to Oliver's shoulders, running them all the way down his arms before wrapping his hands around Oliver's tightly, before letting his forehead fall down to rest on Oliver's shoulder. He fucked him harder, moans tumbling from both of their mouths fairly unashamedly by this point. He gripped Oliver's hands so hard his knuckles went white, getting completely lost in the feeling of Oliver's body. It became even more intense when Oliver began to clench around him again. Connor began kissing and biting Oliver's shoulder again to try and control his noises.

“God, Connor, I need-” Oliver began, only to be cut of by another choked groan as Connor clearly hit his prostate.

“Do you need me to touch you, Oliver?” he breathed into his ear, trying desperately to control his voice and volume and only just succeeding.

“Please!” Oliver breathed back urgently, leaning back into him, his weight moving to balance against Connor's torso instead of on their hands. _God_ it was all so overwhelming. He moved his right hand down to grasp Oliver's cock. Oliver moaned, quiet but ridiculously hot, as soon as Connor's hand came into contact with it. He began to stroke him in time with the movement of his hips, the feeling a little more intense now that Oliver was leaning against him a little more. Oliver's hand was back in Connor's hair, pulling again, and everything felt so amazing, so utterly amazing. He was about 99% certain he'd never had a one-night-stand with someone who cared enough about his pleasure to repeatedly play into his little kinks the way Oliver was with his hair-pulling. The whole thing felt like a giant indulgence and Connor similultaneously never wanted it to end and was also slightly scared of how much he was enjoying it, enjoying _Oliver_ in particular, on a personal level. Enjoying the teasing and talking that he normally would have hated. The slight fear was probably the only reason he hadn't already finished.

“God, Connor, _Connor_ , I'm going- shit- to cum!” Oliver told him, his voice quiet and needy. Connor ramped up his movements and it wasn't long before Oliver was moaning Connor's name, louder than any of his previous noises, spilling all over Connor's hands and clenching around Connor in a far less intentional manner. It was so incredibly hot that Connor completely forgot the things that had been holding him back. Feeling Oliver finish around him got him so close. He pounded into Oliver desperately for another moment or two before he was done, slamming forward into him and groaning his name. _When do_ _I_ _ever say anyone's name_? He thought idly. briefly, as he pulled out. It was only then the he realised the one downside of their position, and Connor's earlier treatment of the pillows. There was nowhere to collapse right now. Oliver seemed to struggle with the same thing for a moment before giving up and throwing himself down horizontally across the bed. Connor joined him, not even bothering to get rid of the condom yet. He'd do it, he would, eventually. But that was so goddamn intense and he'd come twice and he'd felt weird things and Oliver had felt different somehow. He needed a moment. Or ten.

“Where was _that_ guy hiding in the bar?” he demanded with a smile when he finally caught his breath. Oliver laughed nervously, the shyness reappearing suddenly, just to confuse and surprise Connor further.

“I am… the bar version of myself usually. It's just not like I was going to let an opportunity like _this_ pass by without breaking out my A-game.” Connor found that somehow even more endearing and he wished he wasn't quite so spent, because then maybe he would work up the effort to resent how he was feeling.

“Well, you sure managed that.” he assured, trying to calm his breathing. Oliver, somehow, managed to sit up, put on his underwear again, and gently pull the condom off for Connor, before disappearing into the bathroom. Connor figured he was probably getting a towel or something, but he was too sated to ask at all. When Oliver reappeared, he did indeed have a towel that he was wiping over his stomach. Once he reached the bed again, he immediately used to tidy up the come on the sheets where his pillows should be, before tossing it to Connor. Connor cleaned up his hand as Oliver threw the pillows back into their vaguely correct position, slumping back down onto the bed the right way, propping himself into a slouching sitting position and flinging his legs over Connor, clearly not caring whether or not Connor minded. It made Connor smile a little. Connor was also far more offended by the fact that Oliver had put underwear on again than he was by Oliver's legs over his thighs.

“I'll wash the sheets tomorrow, I can't be bothered fixing anything in any more of an effective way right now.” Oliver explained.

“I completely understand.” Connor replied. He couldn't even be bothered to move to lie on the pillows now that they were back, so it was very true.

“So do you often rim strangers?” Connor laughed briefly, realising in retrospect that it had probably been a slightly risky move. He was sure it'd be fine.

“No. I only rim a small percentage of strangers that happen to impress me.” He told Oliver, looking over to offer him a smile that he was positive came across a lot softer than he had planned. Oliver smiled back.

“Good to know.” He said, blushing a little and looking down again. Connor shook his head in genuine disbelief at the fact that Oliver was back to being shy and not being able to look at him when Connor complimented him after just how much he'd run his mouth during the previous activities.

“Are you always so damn sassy in the middle of having sex with a stranger?” He asked to counter Oliver's earlier question as best he could, finding that it was surprisingly hard to resist the urge to run his hands over Oliver's legs.

“I don’t frequently have sex with strangers, but I can confirm that I am often sassy during sex. Sorry.” Connor snickered, and replied,

“Don’t be.” He was surprised to find that he'd loved it, Oliver's teasing and all the noises, even his own. He'd hated talking during in the past, with everyone else, even dirty talk, and he'd always been far too careful about his persona to be as loud as he had been. But something about Oliver was different, probably the way that he wasn't the kind of guy who did this all the time, and the way he hadn't treated Connor like a glorified sex toy, and surprisingly, Connor hadn't treated him that way either, in the end. The talking had just made it feel _fun_ , in a weird, hot way.They lay there for a while, and Connor gave in to the urge to stroke Oliver's shins lightly. Eventually, he felt like he was physically capable of getting up and putting on clothes again, and he felt weirdly reluctant to. And that just made him feel even stranger and more confused and worried. He felt no overwhelming urge to leave. In fact, he kind of wanted to stay. He kind of wanted to do this again with Oliver. It had just been so _good_ and Oliver was so… _Oliver._ There wasn't another way to explain it, really, just that Oliver was Oliver. But that just made him all the more nervous. He knew as soon as he saw Oliver smile that he would be a risky choice, and now Connor was lying here on his bed not wanting to move or follow his own rules. He'd known as soon as he entered this apartment that he liked Oliver at least five times as much as he liked his usual one night stands, and this was the result. He should have known better. He sat up abruptly, looking over the floor to try and spot his clothing before he had to fumble around for them. Oliver began speaking, and what he had to say surprised him more than his own feelings did.

“So, are you staying for now and pretending to be a cuddler until you sneak out when I’m asleep or shall we save ourselves the awkwardness and you may leave now?” It was not an offer he had been expecting from someone who was the first to admit that he didn't sleep with strangers often. It was a rare offer, and one Connor was always praying for when he finished with any one-night-stand. But he thing was, Connor hadn't known better, he hadn't pulled himself up at any point, he hadn't done anything to stop himself feeling all _fond_ of Oliver. He was here now, he felt what he felt, so maybe he should just give in to it.

“Is there a third option?” He looked over at Oliver to see the other man raising his eyebrows, looking honestly completely shocked, and Connor couldn't read him well enough to know if it was good shocked or bad shocked. Oh God, why was Connor doing this, why was he even considering staying? Why was he considering Oliver in general? He was even being given the opportunity to leave that he would have killed to have with every other hookup, and yet here he was, fighting to stay and getting unreadable looks from Oliver.

“You can stay the night, if you want to. I don’t really care either way, but I’m not overly familiar with the standard protocol for this.” Oliver told him, pointedly not looking at him again. Connor didn't blame him.

“I… probably had too much to drink to drive again now. After the gin.” It was a weak, weak excuse. He'd driven on this much alcohol before, and it was a Wednesday. He wouldn't get pulled over if he didn't take the main road. He just didn't want to go.

“Probably.” Oliver smiled at him a little, and he felt a weird uncomfortable weight fall off his chest at the sight. “That’s alright. I don’t have a spare room, and I am not going through the unnecessarily complex process of unfolding the sofa bed right now, so it’s the plain old sofa or the other side of my bed. I’m not much of a cuddler, so you don’t have much to fear.” He explained. Connor sort of doubted that, Oliver basically _screamed_ cuddler. It was probably just the circumstances, and Connor. Connor hadn't cuddled since he was a teenager, and he wasn't exactly feeling the need right now, but he was slightly put out by having the option taken away from him entirely.

“How do you know I’m not a cuddler?” He joked. Oliver snorted in disbelief at the suggestion. Connor made a less-than-serious noise of protest, which only made Oliver laugh more.

“Oh yes, the manipulative charming one-night-stand kinda guy thing you have going on just _screams_ cuddler.” Oliver had him there. He shuffled to lie down next to him, moving under the covers on the bed and settling in, already sure that he would regret these choices in the morning. Oliver got under the covers as well.

“I honestly cannot be bothered to go and turn off all the lights. Hope you can sleep with that.” Oliver punctuated the sentence with a yawn. Connor had no idea if it was intentional or not, but either way he understood. He hadn't even been bothered to get up to put on underwear, so he would be a hypocrite not to.

“I don't pay the power bills here, so I'm not complaining.”

“Pretty sure two lamps won't break my bank.” Oliver said, flicking off the one beside the bed and sliding down into a lying position.

“You want to know a fun fact?” Connor asked him. Honesty was easier in the dark.

“Sure.” Oliver yawned, but he sounded interested anyway, so he went on.

“I’m so full of shit. I would have come home with you even if you were an iron vice who wouldn’t let me know a damn thing about Bryant.”

“No you wouldn’t have.” He said doubtfully, but Connor could hear the smile. It was worth cracking his facade to boost Oliver's seemingly small ego.

“Oh, I promise you, I would.” He said, his tone as serious as possible. Oliver laughed, but didn't argue.

“Go to sleep.”

“Alright.” Connor was surprised by just how easily he did just that.  
  
***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we all know Connor had to come crawling back repeatedly for a reason, there had to be _something_ about Oliver. So I choose to believe it was everything. I choose to believe he was excellent in bed and that Connor was totally sold on his clashing shyness and sarcasm from day one. He was always just kind of softer around him than anyone else on the show, you know? These are my choices I stand by them.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Connor remembered when he woke up was that he had chosen to stay the night at another guy's house. After a moment or two, he was back to thinking about Oliver and all the weird feelings he'd been having, feeling them all over again. It then occurred to him that Oliver was not in the bed beside him. It was Oliver's apartment, he had to be here somewhere, he was obviously just already up. He looked over and saw that the door of the bedroom was shut, despite having been open for the entire rest of the time Connor had been here, probably so whatever noise Oliver might be making wouldn't wake Connor. It was such a casual act of consideration but Connor didn't know how to handle it, not from someone he'd had sex with. This wasn't how it worked for him, and usually he liked it that way. But now, Oliver was on the other side of that door. This of course would have shattered Connor's plans for a sneak-out, if he'd had any. It didn't seem necessary with Oliver for so many reasons. Oliver had been okay with the idea that Connor was going to leave last night, he seemed very aware of and nonchalant about the fact that this was a one-time thing. That and Connor just didn't mind the idea of seeing him again. Not this morning, and also not maybe some other time in the future. In fact, he kind of _wanted_ to. He decided that when he got up, he'd go through the usual route of exchanging numbers and promising to call, except this time, maybe the promise wouldn't be quite so empty. It was a weird and somewhat scary thought, but he actually planned to ask Oliver if they could see each other again or something. Not in a romantic way, or anything like that. Connor was in no way equipped to handle that. (That's not to say he never would be. Maybe he would be eventually, after all, Oliver was the kind of person he always envisioned, hoped for in the end, there was the potential that it could evolve into that eventually.) But for now, they could see each other, just for sex. Because it had been the best sex he'd had in a very, very long time, and it would be such a waste not to at least suggest it. Also, it probably wouldn't be a bad thing to have someone with Oliver's particular brand of computer talent in his contacts.  
  
He looked at his watch, and felt a little relieved that it was only 6:48. He had plenty of time before he had to get to the courthouse at nine. He got out of the bed, a little reluctantly, because it was comfortable and Oliver and the risk of putting himself out there was in the other room. He pulled his pants and shirt back on, buttoning it most of the way, and merely slung his jacket over his arm because it was way too early to be attempting to look good, and shoved his socks into his pockets for later. He confirmed that his phone, keys and wallet were still in his jacket's pockets and he hadn't lost them along the way, and went to open the door into the other room. He entered to see Oliver sitting on the couch watching the news on a low volume with a bowl of cereal, in black sweatpants and no shirt. Even his bare shoulderblades were pretty. It wasn't fair.

“Morning.” He said, trying to sound cheery without sounding fake. Caring was so frought with difficulties and potential failings, it was awful. Oliver turned on the couch to look at Connor and offered him a smile.

“Morning.” He greeted. “There’s coffee in the pot, if you want. Once again, I’m… pretty unsure of protocol here.” He shrugged a little, before pointing the the coffee pot on his counter. Connor felt his stomach flip when he saw that Oliver had even left an empty mug next to it for him.

“Coffee sounds good.” he said, walking over and pouring some. He helped himself, a little guiltily, to some of the milk in the fridge, as Oliver spoke again.

“I was half expecting you to have disappeared overnight.” He sounded amused rather than judgemental, and Connor found that kind of soothing.

“I was half expecting to have done exactly that.” He replied, moving to sit down on the couch next to Oliver. He bit his lip, steeling himself and preparing to ask his rather important question. “I was actually thinking that I really enjoyed last night, and maybe we should do that again some time. Maybe I could grab your number?” Oliver looked over him, looking surprised but not displeased, and nodded a little.

“Well, it might be nice to do that without the whole you-using-me-for-my-tech-skills thing hanging over us, but that would also make it more than a one-night-stand, just in sheer quantity. And that doesn’t strike me as your style.” Oliver offered him a little grin, and Connor grinned back with a shrug.

“It isn’t normally, but I’ve been known to make exceptions.” He hadn't, actually, not in a few years, but it was easier to say than 'it isn't normally, but you fascinate me and I kind of like you'. So he went with it.

“Alright. I can work with that.” Oliver told him, grabbing his mug from the coffee table and sipping at his coffee. “That good, was I?” he teased smugly, defusing the slight tension of the moment. Connor smiled with relief and rolled his eyes at the statement.

“You were there.” He joked back. Oliver laughed and his eyes crinkled up and it made Connor feel like a fifteen-year-old boy with a crush. He looked away.

“Give me your phone.” Oliver said, holding his hand out. Connor handed it over without question, and when Oliver said he needed to put his code in, Connor just told it to him without thinking. He didn't realise he'd done it until Oliver's handing him back his phone. Connor didn't think he'd ever told anyone his phone code. In fairness, it'd been awhile since anyone had been interested enough to want to know. He was staring at the phone in his hands as though it held the key to the weird psychological breakthrough he was on the verge of when it lit up and started buzzing. It wasn't someone calling, it was an alarm. It was simple, it just read 'MEDICATION', and it went off at 7 o'clock every single day. He froze, staring at the alarm in mild horror as he realised what it mean, what he'd done.  
  
That was about 85% of why he didn't stay the night. His medication was at home. He never stayed over at a hookup's place because he had to take his meds and they weren't with him and he needed to get home. He needed to take his meds, otherwise he was going to freak out. Maybe it was placebo, maybe it was knowing that he hadn't taken his medication that was making him panic. Or maybe it was the weird feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when Oliver was smiling at him over cereal. Maybe it was because Oliver _saw_ him, somehow. Oliver hadn't been fooled by his act at all, Oliver had taken him apart between the sheets just as much as Connor had done for him, Oliver was just different somehow. He saw Connor as more than just someone to be used for sex, he hadn't looked at him the way the others did. He was too nice. It was probably all a mistake. He was freaking out.  
  
“What's going on with your phone?” Oliver asked him, breaking Connor out of his awful little trance. He quickly hit the dismiss button and looked over at Oliver. Just because everything about Oliver screamed that he was trustworthy and considerate didn't mean that it was a good idea to tell someone you've known for less than twelve hours that you've got severe anxiety issues that you're technically recovered from but in a kind of fragile way and could have minor relapses at any given point. Especially when you're still trying to maintain the front of cool, collected playboy law student. Come to think of it, Oliver didn't even know he was just a student. And he didn't know anything about Oliver, either. So Oliver really didn't need to know about his fragile mental health. Connor had to lie. Again.

“Just an alarm. I'm on antibiotics at the moment and I forget to take them all the time if I don't set one. Speaking of, I should probably head home. I've got to take them, and I'll need to make myself presentable so I don't have to do the walk of shame into a courthouse this morning.” Another lie, another really shitty, feeble lie. He was so glad that Oliver's sense of decency and privacy seemed strong enough for him to not ask what the antibiotics were for, though he hoped to God that his first guess wasn't some kind of STD. He pulled out his socks and attempted to shove them on. His hands were shaking.

“That's probably true.” Oliver said with a nod as Connor finally had some success with the first sock. The second went on easier. He drained his still nearly-full coffee cup quickly, standing up to go put it in the sink. He turned to see Oliver setting down his cereal bowl and coffee cup on the coffee table and standing up.

“I'll text you later about the emails and stuff, let you know what lie we've come up with about how we got hold of them. Might help us all not get in trouble for your bad behaviour.” He said with an attempt at a smirk. He wasn't sure if it worked or not, but Oliver grinned a little.

“I'm sure it'll be a thrilling tale. If the company worries about it, I covered my tracks, but I'm probably also the person that will get assigned to work out what happened, so it'll be fine.” Connor honestly had no idea how this worked out so well for him, he definitely didn't deserve it. He went to the door and grabbed his shoes, looking up at Oliver as he pulled them on.

“Not gonna dob me in?” He joked, hoping Oliver didn't hear the weird hollowness in his voice that he knew was there.

“Nah, kinda hate my boss.” Connor wanted to ask why, he wanted to ask if he liked his job, he wanted to ask who he counted as his boss, was it Bryant or Kaufman or someone else all together, what did Jason say to him, did Jason flirt with him? But he held it all back, and instead tried for another smirk.

“You've chosen a pretty good revenge then.” His shoes were on now. He stood up straight, and avoided looking at Oliver's bare chest. It just made him want things that were a bad idea right now. “I'd better go, but I'll text later. And I'll call you some time.”

“We'll see.” Oliver said, skeptical but a little amused, opening the door for him. Connor wondered if he should kiss him, or if he should do or say something else. He ended up leaning forward and pecking his lips, which, judging from the look on Oliver's face, caught him very off-guard.

“I will.” he said, before fleeing to the solitude of the lift to try and calm down. His heart was hammering in his chest and he had no idea whether it was his anxiety, his commitment issues, a weird placebo effect, or just Oliver, that was causing it. He put his hands against the wall of the elevator, _something flat_ , took deep breaths in and out. The elevator got to the ground floor, and he felt just barely well enough to drive.  
  
***  
  
He got home, got in and out of the shower, got into a new suit, and got to the courthouse just a tad early, and even he was impressed with his efforts. He'd also taken his pills, printed that email, had something to eat, and avoided any kind of proper anxiety resurfacing, all in less than two hours. It was a solid effort, he told himself as he approached Annalise to hand her the email.

“We've got something on Bryant.” he said, holding it out. She took it, and read it, and a smile slowly formed on her lips.

“How'd you get this?” She asked. He smirked, vivid memories of the previous evening playing in his mind as he answered,

“Well… there was this IT guy last night…” He then realised he was talking to his professor and potential boss and he was a fucking idiot and maybe he _hadn't_ completely regained his cool. It wasn't too late to at least try and save this. “It wasn't exactly _legal_ , is the point.” He smirked again, and felt a little better when she gave him a smile, a pleased, conspiratorial, slightly impressed smile.

“Then we just have to get creative.” Connor felt a little elated at it. It was stupid, he was like a dog being thrown a bone by the human. But it felt good, and it felt promising. It was also relieving that he wasn't being judged for sleeping with someone for information.  
  
It felt more and more promising as he watched Bonnie explain how they had the email, as he watched Annalise use it to lay suspicion on Bryant. It felt _good,_ it felt like success. It made years of breaking his back in undergrad feel worth it, because after this, _surely_ he'd at least get one of those internship spots.  
  
When they got out of the courtroom and waited for Annalise to finish speaking with their client, Connor pulled out his phone to text Oliver with the official story to help him cover his tracks.  
  
_Hey Oliver, it's Connor, from last night. Official story on this end is that it was in the files from the previous attorney. Hope that helps.  
_  
Seemed only fair, for Annalise and for Oliver, that he made sure the story was consistent on all ends, he told himself, and besides, he'd promised. This wasn't at all to do with Oliver and any weird feelings he might be having about Oliver. It was only a minute or so later when he received a brief reply.  
  
_Not many other Connors that I'd be receiving that kind of text from, you know. It does. Thanks._ He was considering texting back with something else, anything else, a polite 'can I sleep with you again this weekend' or something, when Annalise reappeared.

“We did well today, no doubt due to Mr. Walsh's hard work last night.” ' _Hard work' is probably a pretty generous way of terming it_ , Connor thought as he tried to hide a smile. “I'll be at the Dean's cocktail party if you find anything before tomorrow.” He somehow doubted he'd be able to find anything else of use, but he was going to go to that cocktail party anyway, it couldn't hurt to seem committed. He'd learnt a long time ago to take every opportunity to cozy-  
“How'd you get that email?” Michaela asked, cutting off his train of thought. She sounded a little bitter, and he could completely understand why. If it wasn't for that email, she wouldn't have had any competition for that trophy. She was a pretty worthy adversary to have to beat, if he was completely honest.

“Yeah bro, for reals.” Asher chimed in. He resisted the urge to inform Asher that they were not 'bros'. Michaela, at least, had a reason to be annoyed. But Asher? He hadn't been in with a shot, honestly. Either way, there was no diplomatic way to say 'I slept with someone'. There was also no way to say 'I slept with someone' and have people like them take him seriously. He was used to having to fight a little harder to be taken seriously as it was just because he was gay, he wouldn't give anyone anything else to work with. He wasn't going to let their judgement ruin his victory in any way. So instead, he went with,

“I don't kiss and tell.” He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he wanted them to take him seriously. He wanted Michaela to take him seriously, especially. He liked her, in a weird, competitive way. She was smart and kind of lethal, like him. He respected that, and he, quietly, secretly, wanted her respect as well. That, and talking about Oliver out loud felt like it would solidify it somehow. He was already in enough turmoil about his weird feelings without having to admit to any of what had happened aloud to people he didn't really know.  
  
He slid his phone back into his pocket so he wouldn't text Oliver again. Not yet, at least.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also stand by Connor having a tonne of respect for Michaela and also an anxiety disorder don't fight me on that either. YOU CANNOT TAKE THESE HEADCANONS FROM ME. (like real talk so much of his physicality screams anxiety issues, his post-murder freakout looks to me exactly like a panic attack i have feelings about this)

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to be truly glorious and leave kudos/comments, you'll receive absolutely nothing, but you may sleep better at night knowing you improved my day !!


End file.
